


Terms of Endearment

by plaidshirtjimkirk



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Modern AU, Toshisami, hella fluff, konhiji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirtjimkirk
Summary: The best part of traveling for business is coming home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! Written for [shell_senji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shell_senji)'s prompt: "Reunion"

 

**.*Terms of Endearment*.** _  
_

_“Getting to travel for work! How lucky!”_

Bullet train, local train, and then the pointed taps of a brisk gait—of freshly shined shoes hurrying over pavement scorched by late afternoon sun. The stale July air was anything but suit and tie weather, and perhaps slowing down would have been prudent to benefit his comfort…however, a little extra sweat was worth it if it made Kondo’s arrival any sooner.

Despite his already heightened efforts, the anticipation brimming within him could barely contain itself as it was, and nothing short of a full-on sprint would satisfy the pressing urge to move faster and faster yet. Or, as fast as his bulky shoulder bag would permit him, in any case.

_“Seeing so many different places, meeting so many different people. Do you know how great that is?”_

Desire and need, _necessity_ to throw his arms around the most valuable treasure and hold tight…to feel himself held back and clung to just as ardently after all this time… These were the impulses that drove him, were what had Kondo Isami pounding the sidewalk hard while decked head to toe in professional attire.

A briefcase rocked in the grip of his left hand and keys already drawn from a breast pocket clamored in his right, all as he laser focused on powering his way through the oppressive swelter. It didn’t matter how ridiculous he looked to anyone else dressed appropriately down and drifting lazily about their Saturday with uchiwa¹ and cool packs. Kondo had long been past giving thought to the generic critical gaze of society, especially when there were more pressing matters vying for his attention.

_“Oh, and eating all kinds of new things, too. Psht, how nice it must be.”_

He was thirty years old, after all—thirty and already entitled fourth successor of the Tennen Rishin-Ryu. Thirty and leader of a fighting style he could now call his own, one that had erred on the edge of struggle but began flourishing anew after transfer to his name. It was because he was thirty and trekking all over the country to aggressively spread renown, to secure its position and vitality for the next heir and hopefully even the one after.

Indeed, Kondo was only thirty and yet felt he’d traveled enough to satisfy the rest of his life at this point, if he had any say in the matter. Alas, none he had, as it was crucial to answer that beckon of responsibility which ensured the livelihood he’d made for not just himself. It was no longer about only his future but _theirs_ , and there could be no greater duty to fulfill than safeguarding that.

…Even if it meant frequent trips and cold hotel beds and meals eaten with those of a much lesser quality of company.

_“I wish I could just take off like that…”_

So, frequent travel it was. Of course, he dreaded it—dreaded that last hug and the small kiss which always followed. Dreaded the _be carefuls_ and _see you soons_. But for every difficult parting, there was a return that much sweeter awaiting him. Absence only put in perspective what he was missing when he went without, and made him infinitely appreciate what he had when it was back in his clutches.

It was sensible, therefore, to rush even under such uncomfortable conditions—quirked eyebrows and pensive stares be damned. For the sooner Kondo’s arrival, the sooner he could embrace everything that mattered most, and hold it like he’d never have to let it go again.

__“_ …get away from my family without any questions asked… _”_ _

At last, Kondo veered about a corner, the soles of his shoes skidding along concrete as he came face-to-face with the sight for which he’d so vehemently yearned: _Makoto Heights_. Sleek and minimalist, the apartment building stood ten stories high with an entryway of heavy charcoal double doors embellished by diamond-shaped windows. There was no time to spare for appreciating pleasant architectural design choices, however; he bounded through the entrance with reckless abandon, heaving heavy breaths into his lungs while punching in his entry code and sending the automatic door sliding aside.

 _“…have my own adventures without all the annoyance and hassle…_ “

Naturally, the elevator was parked at the top floor. Kondo jabbed the call button, the keys in his hand jingling with restlessness while his heart pounded its ribbed prison. Shoulders rose and fell. His foot began to tap.

_“…do whatever, or heh, whoever I want, y’know? No consequences.”_

Just standing around, even for a few seconds, was a challenge. He dabbed at the beaded moisture on his forehead and then glanced at his watch. It had all turned insufferable by now: the need for patience he didn’t have, the rise in sheer excitement, and oh, the exhaustive _heat_ made so much worse in this enclosed space with no moving air.

Still panting, Kondo flicked the tip of his nose and his focus shot to the staircase in temptation. Just as he started considering if a marathon climb would be quicker, the pleasant chime rang out with the elevator’s arrival: an invitation he eagerly accepted.

His pointer finger depressed the fourth floor button—and thrice thereafter for good measure. And when the doors closed in again and Kondo’s reflection came into view, he was rudely reminded of what unfortunate consequences racing around on foot this time of the year could have on one’s appearance.

The neat look he’d fixed this morning had gone rogue in some places, disheveled locks betraying the commanding rule of all that meticulously applied styling wax. Kondo lifted his chin and gave his head a shake, then quickly ran fingers over his hair to fix what he could. Surely, he’d looked better, when his face wasn’t red from exertion and his appearance not unkempt from an impromptu workout.

But it had all been worth it.

Because it was never about sight-seeing or meeting new people…

The chime rang, the doors split. With his heart beginning to hammer again, Kondo nearly tripped over his own feet while making for the left, toward the numbers _401_ written in dainty silver font.

…It’d never been about trying new dishes or having so-called freedom he didn’t even want in the first place…

Key into the keyhole, a fast turn, and once the door was sent flying open, Kondo’s breath caught in his throat.

Natural light permeated gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, flooded the inner spaces with an ethereal softness that left everything within glowing and glinting and _warm_. And there, in the middle of it all—Hijikata! Stupefied and rendered frozen, he stood with a clipped manuscript in hand and wide eyes fixed toward the entrance.

“… _Kat-chan?!_ ” The exclamation was breathless as the stack of papers he’d been narrating from fell limp, curling over backward from the top edge.

“ _Toshi!_ ”

Luggage crashed to dark floorboards just beyond the genkan² and the keyring flew haphazardly atop the slipper nook, while Kondo’s legs nearly entangled from the haste with which he stumbled out of his shoes. Etiquette and conventionality meant nothing up against the urgency of needing purchase—to finally, _finally_ pull Hijikata into his long bereft embrace and feel him, smell him, _hold_ him.

Pages of writing fluttered free through the air, cast off as though they were meaningless, as Kondo sprang over the threshold with his hands held out. Their bodies collided and his arms snapped tightly around Hijikata, hauling him forward and squeezing as tightly as permitted without causing pain.

Kondo took fistfuls of shirt, clenching the material while feeling himself enveloped in turn with mirroring strength, then nosed his way into sleek black hair to inhale. The scent he loved most inundated him so that his knees nearly gave way, overwhelmed by waves of satisfaction and gratitude and _relief_ battering him and making him cling even further.

“ _Kat-chan_.” His name was muffled into his suit jacket, and though it’d been spoken in that ever soft and baritone voice so distinctly Hijikata, Kondo felt the unadulterated emotion it rode out on thrumming along the fabric of his soul.

Distantly, he became aware that he might have been holding with too much strength. Kondo clenched the shirt once more before releasing it and relocating his grasp to smaller shoulders, pushing back just enough to free up space for their lips to crash together.

The instant of connection was demanding and insistent, fueled by the racing of Kondo’s pulse and every ounce of insufferable buildup burning this perfect moment into the depths of his memory. Palms rose to cradle Hijikata’s cheeks, thumbs pressing gently beneath closed eyes as their mouths broke contact and immediately met again, over and over in a dizzying torrent of desire and exhilaration–until Kondo’s lungs starved and he was forced to breathe.

He gasped upon drawing back, his forehead immediately pushing unto Hijikata’s as he was unwilling to forfeit such closeness, while fingertips flexed and intertwined with locks of chin-length hair.

Hijikata’s exhalations fell with matching intensity and his hands rose to clamp onto Kondo’s forearms. “Wow.” He huffed through a gentle smile. “Welcome home.”

Kondo laughed once, just as softly and with a twinge of mortification for his lacking in self control. “…I’m home.”

The corners of Hijikata’s lips pulled a little further outward into his cheeks, his eyes managing to grow even more tender. “And _early_ at that.”

Letting his lashes fall, Kondo nodded and couldn’t prevent his own grin from widening as well. “I, uh.” He chuckled. “I skipped out a little prematurely.”

A snort. “I’m sure Ito-sensei was thrilled.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Hijikata returned the next kiss bestowed upon him, shorter and more disciplined this time—and with eyes remaining open. When their mouths parted, his brow suddenly furrowed then and he pulled back with a squint. “Wait. Did—did you _run_ here?”

Heat of a different kind flashed across Kondo’s face and his eyes shifted to the left before finding Hijikata’s again. “…Maybe.”

“Kat-chan! It’s the hottest day of the year yet!” Hijikata released Kondo’s arms, his nimble digits set to unfastening the suit jacket and shoving it off his shoulders. The escape of pent up heat felt heavenly as Kondo shook himself free, not particularly caring where the garment ended up while he began loosening his tie. “No wonder you’re all flushed.”

“And here I was thinking that was your fault.”

“ _Taku³_ …” Ah, the sound of vexation laced with fondness—so typically Hijikata and how Kondo _loved_ it. Through rims of dark lashes, he peered at him with adoration, which resulted in an epiphany of his own.

“Speaking of clothing…” Kondo pressed his fingertips to the light blue shirt Hijikata wore and took hold of the unbuttoned edges; he ran his hands down each side, then pulled gently at the bottom hem. “This isn’t yours, Toshi-san.”

Blush threatened to creep across Hijikata’s cheeks. His brows pulled in and he tossed his face aside. “It was…convenient.”

“Ahuh.” Exhaling through his nose, Kondo’s brows raised with a knowing smirk. “It looks good on you, even if it’s a little big.”

“…Well, there’s no use standing around at the door,” Hijikata declared in an airy tone, and Kondo had to bite his lip to not laugh—or abuse his power of so easily flustering a generally unflustered man. Reaching for Kondo’s fingers and entwining them with his own, Hijikata gave a squeeze before releasing them and stepping off to the side.

He heaved the shoulder bag up, swatting at Kondo when he tried to take it, and then set off across the apartment. “I wish you would’ve told me you were coming in early, though. I wanted to meet you at the station.”

Kondo followed in his footsteps, stopping short in the living space as Hijikata disappeared through an open door across the way. “Not feeling the element of surprise, Toshi?” It was a jovial inquiry, posed as he began collecting the papers that had been scattered over the floor. “I knew you’d be busy with writing so—”

Hijikata scoffed from the bedroom and called out, “ _Please_.”

Shuffling through the pages, Kondo’s eyes lifted as Hijikata reemerged. “How’s it going? Progress, or…?”

“Heh. _How’s it going_?” Hijikata reiterated over a breath. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in discontent and reaching for the stack, he rifled a thumb through it. “It’s not.”

“Ah.” Kondo slouched his shoulders. “Writing is hard.”

“At this rate, this novel is never getting done.” With an aloof shrug, Hijikata clipped the manuscript back together, despite still being out of order, and let it flop on the glass coffee table. His palm rose to press to his forehead and then stroked back through his hair. “Yet another WIP on the pile, I guess.”

Kondo’s lips pursed in a sympathetic pout and he closed the space between them, extending a hand to stroke along Hijikata’s cheek and then pulling him into another embrace. “Ne…” he exhaled, his lips close to an ear. “How about this? I’m gonna shower and then cook dinner for you. And you can tell me all about what you’re stuck on.”

Hijikata’s spine straightened and he lifted his eyes to find Kondo’s. “How the hell is that fair?” he protested, his voice managing to sound both soft and agitated at once. “You were traveling all day. Why should you have to cook?”

Letting his lashes fall for a beat, Kondo shook his head as a tiny grin twitched at his lips. “Toshi-san, you misunderstand.” He gave a squeeze to his hips. “It’s not a matter of _having_ to but _wanting_ to.”

Hijikata’s brows pulled inward, studying Kondo in minor discontent, but he at last relented with a nod. “Fine. As long as I help, then.”

“Deal.”

A beat. “And shower with you.”

Kondo lifted his chin, openly wearing his interest. “I’m liking these terms. Anything else?”

“Cht.” Knuckles hit softly against Kondo’s chest and Hijikata groused, “Shut up.” Their lips met in one more brief kiss as fingers entwined yet again, and hand-in-hand, they made a beeline for the shower room.

And though Kondo was fully present in the present itself, his mind revisited that conversation from last night, if only for a moment.

“ _It’s just that my dojo is so busy that sensei never allows me to leave for long. I’m stuck in one place forever_ ,” Katsura had said at the networking dinner, red-faced and with sake cup raised. “ _Yes. You guys who get to traipse around in the name of business _…__ ” His eyes had drifted to Kondo and Saigo, to Ito and Sakamoto. “ _You really have all the luck._ ”

While Kondo undid the intricacies of Hijikata’s attire…while Hijikata undid the intricacies of his own, he had to acknowledge just indeed how lucky he was—not because of the reasons Katsura had cited, but because he could always come home to this.

“You’re smiling, Kondo-san,” Hijikata noted without lifting his gaze from the line of shirt buttons he made quick work of undoing.

And that…well, that only made Kondo smile even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3333
> 
> ¹ uchiwa: A traditional fan that doesn’t fold, and an essential item in the hell known as Japanese summer  
> ² genkan: The recessed part of the entryway where one removes their shoes before entering a home or some businesses  
> ³ taku: Shortened from mataku. Used to express annoyance
> 
> Additionally~ I modified the picture used for this piece by putting a wedding ring on Toshi. lol


	2. Chapter 2

**.*Chapter 2*.** _  
_

The shower took much more time than Kondo expected—not that he’d harbored any particular expectations to begin with, but Hijikata had certainly had some of his own. So, the water ran a little longer and the monthly bill would be a bit higher in consequence…however, far was Kondo to deny his better half anything within reason. The trouble there was that almost anything could be justified as such.

Okita liked to call it _spoiling_ , while in one of his irascible moods and seeking to trade so-called therapeutic barbs with Hijikata, but how quickly he could forget the ways he, himself, was doted on. Or perhaps it was never a matter of amnesia as it was envy; for as long as Hijikata and Okita had been fixtures in Kondo’s life, a certain possessive tension both bound and repelled the two. Affection existed between them without doubt, but it was also tough and complicated, and often easily mistaken for contempt by anyone looking from the outside in.

And then there was Kondo: stranded as the nucleus with a husband on his right arm and adoptive son on his left, each berating and arguing across the way like he didn’t even exist…which was ironic, considering he was the ultimate reason for their bickering. In any case, it was the fate Kondo had resigned himself to, dawdling in the crossfire of loving two very emotional men in two very different ways. But it was also a fate he accepted in full. There was enough room for both and he _needed_ both, just as they needed him in turn—and each other, even if they wouldn’t admit it.

Whether it was the result of his so-called coddling or not, Kondo left the shower quite clean and splendidly unwound, strutting at a leisure pace into the bedroom for comfortable attire. The closet doors were thrown open and he sorted through the garments, first deciding on a pair of dark trousers and donning them. As he began making his next selection, Kondo found himself treated to the sight of Hijikata joining his company, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped about his hips.

They exchanged a smile before Kondo pulled two tops from the closet and tossed one over. “Here.”

Hijikata caught it, his brow furrowing as he peered down. “This is yours.”

“It was, uh, what did you say before...?” Kondo tossed the form-fitting black t-shirt over his head and pushed his arms through with a quiet heave. Once settled, he finished his thought with a mischievous grin. “Oh, yeah. Convenient.”

“…Cht.”

Kondo laughed softly at the flash of Hijikata’s teeth with that wordless reply, and walked barefoot across the hardwood floor to press a kiss to his lips with a murmur. “I like you in my clothes, Toshi.” He stroked a blush-dusted cheek, pushed locks of damp hair behind the nearest ear, and bumped noses with his husband. “Besides…” A huff. “I think you like wearing them, too.”

The scoff and denial were as further amusing as Kondo had expected them to be, and with a smirk, he left Hijikata to his own devices in their bedroom. Toward the kitchen his steps carried him with intent to begin making good on his promise of cooking—and when Hijikata showed up a few minutes later wearing the very shirt that had been tossed his way, Kondo couldn’t help but allow himself another grin.

~

Dinner that night was salmon with a horseradish apricot sauce, just the way Hijikata liked it…because if Kondo had it _his_ way, everything in the world would be suited to his husband's preferred fashion. A happy marriage meant a happy life, and the spouse Kondo had chosen for himself wasn’t at all difficult to please. From where he stood before the stove, he stole what he’d intended to be a quick glance over the shoulder and felt his eyes soften further.

Hijikata had situated himself at the table, haphazardly chopping vegetables for a salad in no elegant fashion; it was a seemingly simple task of no particular importance and yet, the sight caused warmth to bloom within Kondo's chest.

_Isn’t that just how it always is…Toshi’s talented with any blade, unless that blade happens to be in a kitchen…_

The smile pulling outward to his cheeks was just as unstoppable upon the thought, not that Kondo was trying particularly hard to hinder it in the first place. And then, fate was at play as it always seemed to be when it came to the two of them, as Hijikata looked up at that very moment to find he’d been the object of undivided attention.

He huffed and quickly diverted his eyes back to the task at hand, but apparently couldn’t prevent his own mouth from twitching at the corners. "...What?"

Kondo exhaled through his nose, knowing full well he was incapable of honestly answering that question in a graceful manner; however, his keen mind recognized the opportunity that had risen from it, and it was one he'd be sure not to miss. "Toshi, come here." He procured a spoon from a nearby drawer and dipped it into the pan to take some of the sauce he'd thrown together.

“Mm?”

"Try this and let me know if you like it."

"Hah?” _Chop, chop—_ a tomato rolled away with a curse— _chop._ “Of course I will."

Kondo's lashes fell and he shook his head. "Are you going to make me say please?" The puppy eyes came out. "…Please."

A light scoff fell from Hijikata's lips, before the corners pulled a little further yet into his cheeks. He relented without additional protest, standing and wiping his hands off on a dish towel before making his way over. Their gazes remained locked as the space between them closed, and Kondo blew on the spoon to ensure it had cooled enough to not burn.

Hijikata leaned in, his mouth closing on the utensil and then withdrawing with the raise of a brow. He paused in consideration and then slightly canted his head. "It tastes like it always does. Did you try something new—?"

Kondo's mouth immediately found his, effectively cutting off the puzzled inquiry with his tongue pushing through to tease against Hijikata's a few times before taking a slow retreat. He touched Hijikata’s bicep and let his hand run down the length of his arm to entwine their fingers, while pulling back only far enough to purr, "Just wondered how it tasted on you."

"Kat-chan..."

And that was that.

The spoon slapped down on the counter and Kondo blindly reached to the lower the stove as their next kiss deepened. His white apron taken in rough fistfuls, he was tugged forward so his body pressed flush to Hijikata’s while their lips met over and over until both were breathless and erring on the brink of going lightheaded.

"Toshi..." Kondo panted, leaving a trail of kisses as he moved toward Hijikata's jaw. "Dinner—"

"—can _wait_."

Thusly, without an inkling of debate, the flame was extinguished. That meant one problem had been solved, and the next seemed as easy a fix… Walking Hijikata backward until he gently bumped against the counter, Kondo lifted him to sit on it. While slender legs wrapped about him, he leaned forth to nuzzle against Hijikata’s chest, his arms encircling his husband’s waist in a possessive hug.

“I missed you,” Kondo mumbled against him, reveling in the comforting sensation of nimble fingers threading through his hair. “ _So much_.”

“Ngh.” Hijikata’s thighs spread wider and he offered an encouraging nudge, his voice airy and soft. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, mm…”

“Oh, I can’t agree with that.” Drawing away so he could lift his chin, Kondo looked up to find eyes with wide-blown pupils aimed directly at him. His own fell half-lidded. “Mine’s already too fond. Absence only makes it hurt.”

Dark lashes blinked several times before blotches of pink stained over Hijikata’s cheeks and he tossed his face aside. “Oh my God, Kat-chan, _shut_ up.”

A chuckle. “Nope…” Kondo freed one hand from the embrace and let it wander along his husband’s waist, up his side and back down, then walking fingers along his thigh. “Not a chance,” he sang over a whisper and then at last relented to give Hijikata the touch he wanted.

“N—ne, we should—”

 _Pin-pon_.

A doorbell had never sounded so _damn intrusive_ until now and they each jolted back to reality with shock, staring at the other in polarized confusion as the perfect moment dissipated into a void. And then, just to add insult to further injury, that was when Okita’s voice rang out.

“Hi~jikata-san, open up!” The bell chimed again three times in a row and a fist started to beat against the door. “I know you’re home!”

Kondo blinked slowly as he felt Hijikata’s body go stiff in a way he hadn’t intended, the instant transformation of his expression serving as the final nail in the coffin. Unbridled lust turned to fury in the bat of an eyelash…and Kondo simply groaned, momentarily let his head fall over Okita’s incessant hounding, and then pulled Hijikata free from the counter.

The stove was turned back on. The apron was adjusted. At the front of their apartment, the door was thrown open with an enraged bark.

“What the fuck do you _want_?!”

An amused laugh. “That’s not your shirt.”

“Fuck off.”

“Come on now, Hijikata-san, I promised Ko—” Okita’s eyes apparently caught movement in the background then and went wide. “ _Kondo-san_?!”

A palm pressed hard to Hijikata’s chest and with a hard shove, he was removed from standing in the way. Shoes went flying into the air while Okita flew over the threshold and thundered toward the kitchen. “Kondo-san, you’re back!”

“Souji!” His eyes falling closed, all Kondo could do was bellow a laugh. “So I am…” Over shoulder claps and a slew of questions of _when_ and _why_ and _how_ and _why didn’t you text me_ , he returned to sautéing and wondered if he’d need to add more fish to the pan now. Through the corner of his eye, Kondo caught the sight of Saito bowing to Hijikata and barely heard soft-spoken words begging for the pardon of his fiance’s rudeness.

“Hn?” Okita hummed after a few moments. “Look at you, setting the table all fancy…” He plucked an unlit candlestick from its crystal holder. “Kondo-san, you never put these out when you cook for me!”

Baring his teeth upon his approach with Saito in tow, Hijikata snatched it. “Because you always just God damn show up uninvited and shove your way in here.”

Over the sound of Okita’s boisterous laughing, Saito stepped up to Kondo with his shoulders lowering along with his head. “Kondo-sensei, please accept my humble apologies. Had I known you were back and making dinner, we certainly would not have intruded.” A firm hand pressed to his shoulder and stopped short his quest for atonement.

“Hey, there’s no need for that. You know you’re always welcome here.” Kondo could feel Hijikata’s glare piercing through his back at that reply. _…Mental note. Make it up to him later. Also set some rules for Souji._ “And uh, by the way. It won’t be long until you’re basically my son too, Hajime-kun. Let’s loosen up a little and drop the sensei bit when we’re not at the dojo, okay?”

At the mention of his imminent marriage, Saito flushed and swallowed hard, only nodding once in reply. “Thank you…Sir.”

Kondo’s lashes fell and he chuckled. “That’s a little better, I suppose. We’ll work on it.”

“Speaking of weddings, it’s getting close, huh?” Taking Saito’s shoulders, Hijikata silently guided him over to sit at the table. “Two months away now. I’m guessing you have all your shit sorted out and taken care of.”

“Aa…” Dropping his chin, a barely-there smile appeared and Saito’s cheeks took on an even rosier shade.

“Not _everything_. Some matters are still under debate.” Okita plucked one of the sliced tomatoes and studied it before popping it in his mouth. He then reached for the knife Hijikata was using and twirled it about his fingers. “I wonder if Hajime-kun will _ever_ agree to change his last name to mine…”

“ _Souji_ —”

“And why in the hell would he do that?” Hijikata lashed out at Okita’s wrist, stopping the movements of his hand and retrieving the knife from his possession before any harm was done.

“Maybe I want us to share a familial name?”

“Souji, now is not the time,” Saito firmly declared and sat tall in his seat.

“You’re damn right it’s not!” Hijikata echoed. “And while I’m at it, let me also say it’ll _never_ be the right time for Saito to go changing his name just to take yours for some idiotic social decoration. I certainly didn’t.” A thumb was thrust over his shoulder toward Kondo. “And he didn’t either. Why should it be any different for you?”

Okita gave a prolonged hum, his voice steadily climbing. “Interesting way of looking at it.”

“Please drop it for now, Souji.”

Green eyes rose to their fiance’s.

“Okay—” Kondo began, just for Okita to interrupt him.

“Are you saying you don’t like Kondo-san’s name, Hijikata-san?” Despite framing his question to make it about Hijikata, he kept his attention directly on Saito—who stared back with equal intensity. “And that’s why you wouldn’t take it?”

“ _All right_.” Turning from the pan before another argument erupted, Kondo rubbed at his brow with the back of his hand. “Are you guys staying for dinner? If so, I need to make more than what I’ve got going here.”

The pair provided opposite one-word answers, a _no_ and _yes_ coming forth at exactly the same time while Hijikata groaned.

“Souji, we have dinner plans.”

“But Kondo-san is offering—”

“Souji, would you get the hell out of here?!” Hijikata snapped. “You’re making Saito uncomfortable, you apparently have other plans, we’ve been cooking for two and not four. What more needs to be said?”

“Toshi—”

“Wow, what’s all this about, Hijikata-san?” Okita narrowed his eyes. “After all the trouble I went through to look in on you every day while Kondo-san was gone…”

“No one fucking _asked_ you to do that.”

“ _Toshi_.” Before further chance to rebuke was taken, Kondo stepped between them, placed the spatula in Hijikata’s hand, and pivoted him to face the stove. “Please take care of this for me, okay? Don’t let it burn.” Over an irritated _tch_ , he turned back to Okita still slouched in the chair and began untying his apron. “As for you guys. You’re always welcome here but if you have a plan already, why not go through with it? I’ll text you tomorrow and we can meet up.”

A pensive moment went by. “Hajime-kun?”

Saito nodded his consent.

“Fiiiine,” Okita sang and stood, stretching his arms up and then draping them at the elbows behind his head. “I’m just glad to see you’re back, Kondo-san. That’s enough for me.”

“Thanks, kid,” Kondo said as he led him to the front door. “I’m sorry for not telling you I’d arrive earlier but it was actually a spur of the moment thing. I only got here an hour or so ago.”

“Heh, you never have to apologize.” Peering back at Saito exchanging quiet words with Hijikata, Okita looked to Kondo again and his shoulders nudged into a shrug. “ _I’m_ sorry for just showing up and causing you a headache with that storm cloud over there.”

Breathing out through his nose, Kondo shook his head. “Come on, stop that. But really. Thank you for looking in on him while I was gone.” His expression turned serious then. “Souji, it looks like there’s something you need to get off your chest, though. Will you be all right waiting until tomorrow?”

“Mm! Of course!” Though Okita was now well into his twenties, the grin that accompanied his statement was a splitting image of the one he’d worn in his youth, and the sight of it helped Kondo feel more at ease to believe his answer. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“All right. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

Saito neared and wasted no time in taking the initiative to speak. “I apologize again for the interruption. It was a pleasure to see you’ve returned, Sir.”

Kondo gently clapped his shoulder twice. “No need, no need. And thanks.” He gave Saito a friendly push in Okita’s direction. “Now you two go and enjoy yourselves, all right?”

“Will do, Kondo-san.”

“Yes, Sir.”

In the future, he would _really_ have to do something about Saito addressing him as sir…however, for the present, Kondo simply nodded and watched them step into the elevator. Before it closed, Okita finally called out, “ _Bye, Hijikata-san_.” Unsurprisingly, it went ignored and when the pair were gone at last, Kondo shut the door with a heavy exhale. His hand remained on the lock, taking a moment before making his way back to the kitchen.

He returned to silence, with Hijikata still watching over the pan as he’d been requested. Kondo stepped up behind him, placed his hands on hips narrower than his own, and pursed his mouth against a shoulder. “I’m sorry, Toshi.”

“Welp.” Oh, no… The infamous _clipped tone of disapproval_ had him wincing. “Dinner’s basically done, so I guess we should eat.”

“You’re mad at me…” Kondo couldn’t exactly blame him. “I’m really sorry. I’ll have a talk with him about just showing up here, okay?”

Hijikata huffed. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t annoyed. But look…” He turned the stove off and placed the spatula down, then about-faced with eyes that were much kinder than Kondo had expected. “I definitely _will_ be mad if we don’t pick up where we left off later.” A brow raised. “Got that?”

Relief washed over Kondo and his posture relaxed. “That’s quite a threat, Toshi-san…” Cocking his head, he stroked Hijikata’s cheek and chuckled beneath his breath. “And it just won’t do. We’ll have to eat quickly so I can start making it up to you as soon as possible.”

If Hijikata had wanted to fight the subsequent grin that graced his features, he hadn’t tried hard enough. “Kat-chan…” A snort fell along with his lashes. “It’s just good to have you home.”

“It’s even better coming back to you.”

For a second, Kondo thought Hijikata might deflect as he often had upon receiving such an open admission of feelings…but all he did this time was step forward to initiate an embrace which lasted much longer than either had expected.

Dinner had to be reheated as a consequence, but it still tasted great and Kondo was all too convinced that fact was attributable to the company he shared it with. He was no lefty, but his non-dominant hand guided the fork while his right fingers remained entwined with Hijikata’s beneath the table while they ate.

Yes, the challenge was certainly worth it. Kondo held Hijikata’s hand a little tighter, and smiled when the gesture was returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for reading! <3
> 
> This chapter was a WIP I had haunting my hard drive since July 2018 and I finally decided to do something with it...instead of it just collecting dust. lol


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